


Charred Feathers and Chipped Horns

by BlueBloodstains



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angel!Virgil, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Demon Hunter!Patton, M/M, Magic, Role Reversal, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Will add tags as I go, angels & demons, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBloodstains/pseuds/BlueBloodstains
Summary: Roman Prince is missing.Logan Kepler has been obsessively searching for him for five months, ever since he disappeared.Confidence has finally been given a name, Virgil Folley, and sent to Earth on a mission.Patton Morgan is a demon hunter that will do anything to protect the small family he’s found.Their words collide, and everything begins to slowly fall apart.





	Charred Feathers and Chipped Horns

_ “Logan, you’ve been in there for days, now. You shouldn’t be isolating yourself like this,”  _ Emile Picani’s voice drifted through Logan’s phone speakers, concerned and soft. Logan normally despised idle chit-chat, but he would prefer that over this over-rehashed conversation.  _ “I know you said doing this would help you, and I thought it would, but the level that you’re doing it at feels.. unhealthy. It’s.. I think it’s become an obsession.” _

Logan glanced around his room, both he and his living space looking like it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. Papers were scattered about, missing posters and important documents alike adorning most of the free space within the room. The blinds were drawn, and his bed was messily unmade. There were maps of the area tacked to the walls, red thumbtacks on important areas and various notes made with red pen messily scrawled on top, saying things like  _ “last seen here”, “potential escape route? (Runaway theory)”,  _ and  _ “phone found on ground here (kidnapped?)”.  _ His desk held his old computer and bills that he hadn’t bothered to look at, as well as several empty coffee mugs. 

_ I should make some more. The coffee pot is running low,  _ he idly thought. 

“I don’t need you to be my therapist, Emile. Stop diagnosing me.”

_ “I’m just trying to help you. What you’re doing?Obsessing and isolating yourself like this? Not talking to your friends? It’s not okay. You need to talk to someone.” _

“I’m fine. I’m doing just  _ fine,  _ and I don’t see what the cause of all of this concern is-“

_ “When was the last time you ate? When was the last time you went to work, or even went outside?”  _

Logan’s silence was enough of an answer for the both of them.

_ “I know how you feel, but you can’t keep going like this.” _

“You  _ don’t  _ know how I feel,” Logan spat, and Emile went silent. Logan heard him sigh.

_ “I do know you’re feeling guilty.”  _ Logan nearly laughed. Understatement. He made to straighten his tie out of habit, before realizing he wasn’t wearing one. How long has he been wearing these clothes? Logan wrinkled his nose in distaste. He felt.. For lack of a better term; gross.

_ “I do know you’re spiraling and you’re desperate,”  _ Emile murmured sympathetically,  _ “But you can’t keep ignoring your life like this.” _

“Serious Emile” (as he liked to call it) was apparently activated, the therapist not even making references or jokes to the cartoons he so loved like usual. Logan sighed and ran a hand down his face, suddenly feeling immensely tired. “And you’d rather me just give up?”

_ “No! No, of course not. I’m just saying that maybe you should see a therapist, someone that could help you. I can’t treat you because I know you personally, but I have a list of perfectly capable grief counselors-” _

Logan scowled, nearly ending the call, his hands shaking. This was all they ever talked about anymore, when they actually spoke to each other. When Logan chose to answer his calls after two weeks of silence. “We’ve already been over this. They’d just tell me I’m insane. I don’t need—”

Logan’s voice caught and he took a moment to clear his throat and collect himself, his voice newly controlled and uniform once more.

“I don’t need grief counseling.”

_ Because he’s not dead. He can’t be. _

_ “...Logan, it’s been five months.” _

“Don’t you think I know that?” Logan growled, frustratedly wiping away the traitorous tears that were building up. “I can’t give up on this. I can’t give up on him. I need to know what happened to him. I-I need to know-“

_ I need to know if it was my fault. If he’s missing because of me. _

Logan tightly shut his eyes, grit his teeth, and allowed the annoyance and frustration he felt to resonate through him.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m quite alright on my own, thank you.”

_ “Wait, Logan-“ _

“Goodbye, Emile,” he said tersely, and he ended the call. Turning off his phone and tossing it onto his bed, he put his head in his hands. Maybe it was unfair to lash out at Emile like that. Logan was loathe to admit it, but perhaps the therapist did have a point. 

But...

Roman’s picture on his missing posters beamed at him from the many places they lay in his room, almost mockingly. Reminding him of his sins, of his mistakes. Reminding him that he was a failure. Reminding Logan that Roman might-

That Roman might be  _ dead  _ because of his foolish, selfish actions.

_ It’s your fault,  _ Roman seemed to whisper in his ear.  _ I’m gone because of you. You killed me, Logan. _

Logan swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as his breathing quickened. Everything felt like too much. The weights on his soul held fast. 

This was the priority. Anything else could wait. 

Right?

Logan curled into himself, wanting to hide from the world. But he couldn’t stop now. He had to find Roman Prince. 

He was so, so tired.

_...God, what was he doing? _

* * *

Confidence stood at attention in the white marbled hall, hands behind his back and wings folded behind him. He tried not to let his previously peppy mood sour as he stood in place, quickly glancing left and right to the angels at his side. They were dishearteningly stone-faced.

He stood in a large marble hall with at least fifty other angels standing at his sides, similarly at attention. Of course, like everything else in the Heavens, the hall was ornately decorated with gold and red tapestries and carpets and ethereal chandeliers. It was very.. bright. Confidence resisted the urge to fidget with his robes and groan. 

Gosh, he _hated_ the monthly mission assignments. They always took so long, and it was a lot of time spent for a mission that would probably end up being _“watch this boring area from this boring room and make sure nothing happens for a whole boring month”,_ and then nothing would happen (disappointingly, but not surprisingly), rinse, repeat, get assigned a new area. 

He’s an  _ angel _ , for goodness’ sake! He was supposed to be helping make the world a brighter place, fighting in the name of the light and killing demons! He’s supposed to be a holy hero of the world!

...Maybe he’s been spending too much time watching Earth with Toby. But still! When he got on Earth, Confidence would destroy demons and keep people safe.

Of course, he hadn’t actually  _ fought  _ a demon outside of training, and he’d only Manifested a few months ago, but he’d be fine. Confidence would figure it out once he got there. 

“Manifestation: Joy. Given Name: Tobias Autumn. Mission: You are to continue keeping watch on OS-312, until further notice. You are dismissed.”

Confidence watched his friend fly away from the mission assignment, the wind from his friend’s wings as he flew making Confidence’s hair shift. He sighed as he prepared himself to follow. Another month of watching nothing exciting happen on Earth in a small room. At least he had Toby with him to help pass the time.

The High Virtue kept walking down the line of angels, each angel he passed bowing respectfully towards him as he gave them their assignments. When the High Virtue dismissed them, they wasted no time in lingering, flying off to either get their mission details or begin it.

A quick look the his left revealed there was only one angel left until he would be assigned his mission, and Confidence resisted the urge to shuffle his wings or fidget uncomfortably as the High Virtue neared.

_ Why can’t we just get like, I don’t know, files or something with all of our mission info on them? They could be delivered to our rooms, or just handed out. It would give Serenity a whole lot less work,  _ Confidence grumbled to himself.

“Manifestation: Vigor. Given Name: Ness Diselle. Mission: You are to patrol area AL-413; a low amount of demonic activity has been reported. Serenity will give you details. You are dismissed.”

The High Virtue walked in front of Confidence, and Confidence tried to remain as stone faced as the other angels around him. The High Virtue, Honesty, gazed at him with his single eye, and Confidence did his best not to stare at his scar over his left eye. Of course he’d heard about how Honesty got the scar, but Honesty was extremely touchy about the story (...and the scar). 

He didn’t want to even think about accidentally disrespecting a High Virtue. It would be absolutely disastrous.

“Manifestation: Confidence. Given Name: Virgil Folley.” 

_ Wait, what?  _ Confidence tried not to react, schooling his face into a straight line. Unless they’ve been on Earth before, angels weren’t given mortal names. Confidence could feel a grin of pure excitement pull at his lips, and he quickly fought the smile down. What mission was he going to get? Oh, he was so  _ excited- _

“Serenity will give you details. You are dismissed.”

Confidence’s mind was whirling. He made to leave, before he froze. 

_ Oh! Right! The bow! _

Bowing customarily towards the High Virtue, he then quickly spun around and spread his wings, flying off with perhaps a  _ bit  _ too much speed. 

Confidence whooped with glee as he exited through the door, laughing joyously. He took off into the air again, flying on basically autopilot.  _ A mission! He got a mission on Earth! This was amazing and his name was Virgil and- and- _

Confidence narrowly avoided smashing into a wall and ignored the other angels staring at him, sheepishly smiling as he sank onto the floor.

_ I, uh, should probably get to Serenity. _

Confidence- no,  _ Virgil-  _ picked himself up off of the floor and began walking instead of flying. He didn’t trust himself to fly at the moment. He was too distracted. But he was just so excited!

_ Everything was going to go great! _

* * *

 

Patton stealthily followed his target from the shadows a few feet away, feet moving soundlessly on the ground. She was seemingly a young woman with flowing black hair and olive skin, certainly gorgeous, and most definitely lived up to her name.

This demon, aptly named Vanity, had been giving him trouble the past few days. She had been making too much noise; affecting too many people and catching attention. That was really bad. Patton had to take her out before she caught any unwanted, ethereal gazes.

Vanity made her way through the alley, and Patton prepared to spring his trap. He could just barely see his pre-drawn sigil on the concrete, invisible to any eyes other than his. On top of the sigil was a floating, pastel blue orb, emitting a specific energy attuned to the demon and the source of the demon’s attraction. It had taken a little research to figure out how to make those, but those energy orbs made his job so much easier. 

It was easier to catch flies with honey, after all. 

_ Just a little farther…  _ Patton waited, narrowing his eyes.  _ Three.. _

Vanity inspected the orb, reaching out towards it.

_ Two.. _

Her hand passed through the illusion and she hissed.

_ One! _

_ “Hold!”  _ Patton yelled as he drew a circle with his hands, clapping to complete the spell as Vanity heard the noise and lunged towards him. A burst of magic flew from his fingertips and the sigil on the concrete flashed to life, finally viewable to his prey as she crashed into the barrier it created around her. 

The barrier was a half-sphere of shimmering, blue magic that surrounded the demon, seemingly weak in its looks but impenetrable all the same.

Vanity quickly dropped her glamour and she grew her full demonic regalia, teeth and nails sharpening into fangs and claws, sharp horns and wings sprouting from her head and back, the sclera in her eyes darkening and her iris becoming a pure white. She even grew a few inches. 

The demon began furiously swiping at the barrier with her deadly-sharp claws, and Patton felt each strike pang faintly within the depths of his soul. It would take a lot more than that to break it.

Vanity seemed to realize this, and she met his eyes, growling. Patton met her stare as he walked forwards. 

_ “You.  _ I know you,” Vanity hissed in what sounded like fear, clenching and unclenching her fists as she spoke.

Patton shrugged. “What self-respecting Demon in this area doesn’t know me?” He murmured rhetorically, drawing his favorite axe from the straps on his back. “Now, a little birdie told me you’ve been acting up,” he hummed nonchalantly. “I  _ know _ you know what happens when demons act up around here. They die.” 

“You say that as if I ever had a choice,” she seethed, and Patton raised an eyebrow. He cocked his head. “You had a choice in how much essence you took from each person, and how fast. There’s always a choice.”

Sighing, the demon hunter lazily examined his axe. As sharp as the day it was made. “You’ve almost killed three people. Left them with basically nothing. They’re  _ shells  _ now, Vanity,” he frowned. “When they recover,  _ if  _ they even do, they’ll be shadows of themselves.” 

Patton looked into Vanity’s eyes as he drew closer,  _ really looked,  _ and he knew that if he were to set her free there would only be more victims. As they were wont to do, he supposed. Patton shook his head when the demon didn’t respond.

Vanity was silently eyeing him over, no doubt preparing to attack him when he entered the barrier. He’s danced this dance before. He knew what was coming. He thought that maybe Vanity knew it, too.

Patton readied himself and stepped inside the barrier, instinctively blocking the swipe of her claws and slashing at her with his axe. It sang true, lodging into her side. Vanity shrieked in pain, and Patton grit his teeth as he ripped it out, preparing to strike again. This shouldn’t be difficult, Vanity was a relatively new demon. He was faster.

Patton kicked her in the chest, surely aggravating her newfound wound and knocking the wind out of her lungs. The demon hunter pinned his target onto the ground and lifted his axe to slash at her neck, ready to get this over with and go home. 

A flash of light burst into his vision, blinding him, and he felt his axe meet solid ground.  _ Teleportation? She shouldn’t have been strong enough for that! What’s going on? What- _

A sudden, sharp pain exploded on Patton’s head, and everything went black.

* * *

Patton shook himself as he woke up, blinking slowly and grabbing his bearings. He felt a bad crick in his neck, and he knew he’d be feeling that later.

The ground of an alleyway wasn’t the most comfortable place to be knocked out. It was the middle of the night. Maybe an hour since he was knocked unconscious. Looking around the alley, he cursed. Vanity was gone.

_ Something knocked me out,  _ he frowned,  _ but didn’t kill me. _

Patton made a face, mulling over his options. On one hand, he needed to kill this thing before it made too much noise. The last thing he wanted was another demon hunter, (or, god forbid, an  _ angel) _ in his space, and letting this thing be free for too much longer would get him exactly that.

On the other hand, whatever saved Vanity left him with a nasty head wound (and according to the harsh ringing in his ears, maybe a concussion). Injuries slowed him down, and if he wasn’t at his best while demon hunting, he was as good as dead. 

And him being dead wouldn’t be good for  _ anyone. _

Patton began looking through his bags and various pockets, making sure nothing was stolen while he was unconscious. He’d need to heal himself and come back to deal with this demon (and whatever got it away) as soon as he could, but he was done for tonight. 

The sound of the city at night and the ringing in his ears was his background music as he mentally checked off all of his important items. He nodded to himself as he finished the list, and stood up. 

Patton hissed as the welt on his head protested his movement, but he got up anyway. A slight dizziness caused his head to spin for a moment but he shook it off, and as quickly as it came it disappeared. 

Patton mentally mapped his route to his shared apartment, and began walking.

_ Tomorrow is another day,  _ he thought as he trudged along. 

_ Tomorrow is another day. _

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it so far! Feel free to leave a comment if you want, and thanks for reading!


End file.
